


Not all the broken pieces can be mended

by msraven



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Hopeful Ending, M/M, No fluff whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So this was what?  Some twisted way of you taking control?” Clint asks bitterly. “End us on your terms vs. your heart’s?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not all the broken pieces can be mended

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by this tumblr photoset: [This apartment has never felt as empty...](http://tmblr.co/Ziin0uf-YZj8)

“Did I do something wrong?” Clint asks. He’s trying to focus beyond the roaring in his ears, but he’s shocked and completely blindsided by Coulson’s pronouncement.

“Neither of us did anything wrong, Clint,” Phil sighs. “Like I said, it just isn’t working out. We tried, we failed. It’s best just to be adults and go our separate ways.”

They’ve been dating for a little over eight months now, ever since Phil’s miraculous return from death. Clint had thought everything was going great - the sex was awesome, they still had amazing conversations, and he’d all but moved into Phil’s apartment. 

“You’ve met someone else,” Clint concludes. It’s the only thing that makes sense...unless. “Is it...is it Steve?”

“No, Clint,” Phil says patiently. “I am not seeing Steve or anyone else. I just don’t think we should continue seeing each other romantically. We both agreed when we started this that, if it didn’t work, we’d admit to it and move on. I hope you plan on abiding by that. We can’t allow this to impact our working relationship.”

Clint feels like someone just put an arrow through his chest. Phil’s calm words make it so much worse, because there’s no reason for Phil not to want him other than his being Clint.

“Of course, sir,” Clint responds, trying not to choke on the honorific. “I’ll get my things and leave the key on the counter.”

Clint walks to the closet, grabbing his duffel, and stuffing what few possessions he has into the bag. He methodically does the same in the bathroom and living room, avoiding Phil’s eyes the entire time. He very carefully removes Phil’s spare key off his keyring and places it on the kitchen counter before walking to the front door and hesitating. 

Clint knows that Phil is standing just behind him in the living room, can feel the older agent’s eyes on his back as he stands by the door. There’s a part of him that wants to scream and rail and fight, but a larger part of him knows this was inevitable. He was a fool to believe that Phil would ever want someone like him.

He opens the door and walks out.

~^~

“I’ll get my things and leave the key on the counter.”

Phil doesn’t understand how Clint can’t see how rigidly Phil is holding himself. He just keeps himself from balling his hands into fists, the urge to reach out and soothe away the defeated look on Clint’s face almost too much to bear. Phil tells himself over and over that this is for the best, that he’s saving them both from further hurt in the future. It doesn’t keep him from tracking the archer as he moves about the apartment, knowing it’s likely the last time Clint will set foot inside his home again. 

The sound of the door clicking shut behind Clints sounds like a gunshot in the otherwise silent apartment. 

Phil takes a shaky breath and walks to the office, hoping hours of mindless paperwork will distract him from his battered heart. He takes two steps into the room and freezes, eyes automatically falling to the well-used coffee cup sitting on the blotter. The cup was the first gift Clint had ever given him, the classic William Tell scene depicted on the ceramic now faded almost to white.

Phil staggers against the wall between the bookshelf and door, the weight of his grief pushing him down until he’s on the floor curled a little into himself. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of silence.

~^~

Clint is sitting in the dark not watching television when Natasha finds him. The past week has been awful, with Clint and Phil acting purely professional in a way they never were before they tried to be something more. They continue to do their jobs flawlessly, but everyone can see how wrong everything has become.

Proving why she is his closest friend, Natasha says nothing, only sits beside Clint on the couch and takes his hand.

“It shouldn’t have been a surprise,” Clint says after a long few minutes. “I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. I let myself believe that he...”

Clint bends his head and leans into Natasha’s shoulder. He knows he isn’t acting like himself. Clint isn’t one to brood or let life’s pitfalls get him down. He’s a survivor. But this - losing Phil - has Clint wanting to find the deepest hole and hide, has him wanting to run away for the first time since finding his place in SHIELD. 

“It will stop hurting eventually, right? Eventually?” Clint asks.

Nat wraps her arm around Clint’s shoulders and stays silent. Yeah, he’s not sure he believes it either.

~^~

“You’re my best friend, Phil,” Nick yells, “but you’re a fucking idiot.”

“I already said that I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Phil replies, keeping his own anger in check.

“Then you’re going to fucking sit there and listen,” Nick fires back. “Whatever convoluted logic you’ve come up with to justify breaking Barton’s heart, it’s flawed. He would never have walked away from you once he found out the truth and you’re not saving him any pain by doing what you’re doing.”

“I know that,” Phil agrees.

“Then what the fuck else is going on in that thick head of yours?”

Fury’s voice softens when Phil doesn’t respond. “Phil...I know you’re in love with him and I know he’s loved you for a lot longer than you’re willing to admit. We’ll figure this out and even if we don’t, you shouldn’t let his last memory of you be this.”

Phil maintains his silence until Nick leaves his office with a frustrated shake of his head. Phil stands up, intending to walk down to the breakroom and clear his head, but then the sudden, blinding pain in his chest surprises him. As he feels himself falling toward the floor, all Phil can think is that he wishes he could have held Clint in his arms one last time.

~^~

Natasha wants to be angry. Anger she understands. This - the pain two people who are clearly in love are causing each other - she does not understand.

Natasha has always believed that love is for children, but she had allowed herself to believe that, in this instance, it could be more. If there were any two people in the universe that deserved to love one another, it is Clint and Phil.

So no, Natasha isn’t angry, she confused and disappointed. She needs to figure it out, because if she doesn’t understand the cause, she can’t begin to fix it. 

It’s with this in mind that Natasha strides into Coulson’s office the next morning. The last thing she’s expecting is for Phil to double over against his desk, clutch at his chest, and fall to the floor unconscious. 

The med team she calls in is there within minutes and Natasha doesn’t need to understand the medical terms they call out to know that there is something wrong with Coulson’s heart. She chooses to follow them to Medical, confident that news of Coulson’s collapse will reach Clint soon enough. 

The doctors do what they can to stabilize Phil and then he’s left to rest while they consult with the alien race that had initially healed his injuries after Loki. From what Natasha can gather, they all knew this was bound to happen, just not this soon.

When hours pass and everyone, but Clint, stops by to check on Phil, Natasha goes searching for the wayward archer. She finds him on the range at his normally scheduled time and finally finds the anger she’s been grasping for.

“Why are you here?!” Natasha asks as she corners him against a table. “Phil is down in Medical. He’s _dying_ and you’re here?”

The look of raw pain in Clint’s eyes drains away all of her anger. 

“Don’t you understand?” he says softly. “I’m here it’s because it’s where he wants me to be, Nat. The doctors and Phil aren’t stupid. They had to have known that whatever this is was going to happen. Phil _chose_ to push me away. Whatever time they gave him, he clearly didn’t want to spend it with me.”

“Maybe he was trying to save you pain,” Natasha suggests, but the words sound hollow even to her own ears.

“I want to believe you,” Clint smiles sadly, “but I can’t.”

~^~

Nick refuses to let this break them. He has spent too long watching Clint and Phil deny their feelings, invested too much time in pushing them toward each other, only to have it end this way. Death could not keep them apart the first time and Nick’s going to be damned if he’ll let it win this time.

Since he can’t yell at Phil again, he does the next best thing - he finds Barton.

“I don’t give a fuck what Phil’s done up until now,” NIck says when he catches up to the archer on the roof of HQ. “I didn’t condone it, but what’s done is done. It’s what you do now that matters and I know you love him more than this.”

“What if it’s not enough?” Clint asks in a small voice that sounds unnatural coming from the man he knows, making Nick want to punch someone in the face - preferably those who’ve hurt Barton in the past.

“Then make it be enough,” NIck responds. “I know that sounds oversimplified, but it really isn’t. I’m not saying everything needs to be magically fixed, it’s too late for that. What I am saying is that one of you needs to take a step and Phil’s currently incapable of that.”

“I’ll...think about it,” Clint promises. 

Nick nods. That’s really all he can ask for, although he’s not afraid to admit he’ll be doing a little praying for them both. Nick lays what he hopes is a supportive hand on Clint’s shoulder and then leaves the archer on the roof with his thoughts.

~^~

Clint finally goes down to Medical because he was never really going to be able to stay away. He sits in the chair by Phil’s bed, remembering the last time they were here and has to clasp his fingers together to keep from taking Phil’s hand. It hurts to think that their coming together after Phil’s last brush with death has somehow sent them so far part that the distance between their hands now seems insurmountable.

Clint watches as Phil slowly starts to stir. “Clint,” Phil cries out plaintively before his eyes flutter open. When Phil turns to look at Clint, he meets the older man’s gaze without flinching. 

“I didn’t think I was strong enough,” Phil whispers, voice rough with disuse. “I didn’t think I could spend the next few months with you, loving you, and knowing it was going to end.”

“So this was what? Some twisted way of you taking control?” Clint asks bitterly. “End us on your terms vs. your heart’s?”

“I don’t know,” Phil responds. Clint gets the feeling that, if he had the energy to move, Phil would be scrubbing his hands over his face. “I know you may not believe me after what I’ve done, but I love you, Clint. I don’t want to lose you any more than I want to die.”

“I’ve got good new for you then,” Clint tells him. “The figured out what they did wrong the first time they fixed you. You’re not dying.”

Clint expects Phil to look happy at the news, not to frown and make an aborted reach towards him.

“And us?” Phil asks.

“I don’t know,” Clint responds honestly and stands. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. I don’t know how to trust you again, Phil.”

Clint stands, turns, and walks out.

~^~

The doctors fix his heart, but to Phil, it feels no better than before. He knows it has nothing to with the procedure and everything to do with the chair that remains empty beside his hospital bed. It’s funny really, how everyone is so used to Clint occupying that seat that nobody who visits thinks of sitting in the chair even as the archer remains conspicuously absent.

Phil has a lot of time to think as he lays in Medical. On the morning that they discharge him, Phil completely ignores the doctors’ orders and climbs up to the roof. He matches Clint’s position at the roof’s edge, letting his feet dangle over the side and placing his hand an inch away from Clint’s. He doesn’t look over at Phil, but he doesn’t leave either. 

“You said you don’t know how to trust me again, but I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance to remind you,” Phil says, takes a deep breath, and begins. “The first time I laid eyes on you, I thought you were cocky, reckless, and the most beautiful person I’d ever encountered.”

Phil talks until he’s hoarse and when he’s done, Clint’s pinky has bridged the gap between their hands.

It’s a start...

_fin_


End file.
